


look what a sight to see

by wrennette



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Crack-ish, I Blame Tumblr, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 14:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15632610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrennette/pseuds/wrennette
Summary: In which Obi-Wan’s hot pantscausesolve problems.





	look what a sight to see

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jynx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jynx/gifts).



> @bluemaskedkarma and i were chatting the other day and uh, fic happened? i blame them. (title from "Can't Get Enough Of Myself" (feat. B.C) by Santigold)

Obi-Wan Kenobi, rumour said, would gladly give his life for his men. This fit the selfless image the propaganda machine desired, and so it was common knowledge. He would also gladly give his shirt, although they really did try to keep that quiet. Which was pretty impossible when, every time the General’s tunics ripped or tore in the course of his duty, images of his gleaming muscles found their way onto the holonet, high quality close ups purchasable for a small fee, all proceeds to benefit the Open Circle Fleet retirement fund. Obi-Wan found the situation amusing, and knew his ‘troopers were involved in the scheme. Anakin flushed and spluttered, and tried to ignore the entire subject.

On Felucia, they got nearly half Obi-Wan’s bared chest, including a nipple. On Mandalore, most of a bare back, and an upper arm with some impressive tattoos. More than one betting line immediately opened on the meaning of the design and whether there was any other ink on the General. Ahsoka’s book was counted the most exhaustive in the Temple, Jedi and clones alike placing their bets with the young Togruta. If Obi-Wan knew (he did), he kept quiet (and took a small cut).

Never one to be too caught up with annoyances like appearance based self consciousness, Obi-Wan let the men have their fun. So the pictures kept going up, almost every battle a new image. And almost every new image, a new headache for Cody. He was going to need new back teeth inside a year at this rate, he had probably ground his own down to nubbins. 

It wasn’t that Cody disapproved of his Jedi’s penchant for destroying his uniform so much as - well - he _very much_ approved of his Jedi’s - ahem - fitness. He picked up every cloak Obi-Wan _misplaced_ , if only so he could toss them over the Jedi’s bared chest after battle. Obi-Wan always politely thanked him. No one else did.

“You’re a hot mess!” Anakin accused Obi-Wan one day when Obi-Wan traipsed back to camp with half his tunics hanging in ribbons, blood and dirt on his face. As if Anakin himself wasn’t just as bad. Boil and Waxer exchanged a look, and three weeks later, a pair of what could best be described as “booty shorts” mysteriously appeared in Obi-Wan’s clean laundry. They were short and satiny and deep Republic red, with _HOT MESS_ scrolled across the ass in bright gold, complete with embroidered flames. Obi-Wan cackled with glee, and promptly modelled them to Anakin, who immediately spat out his drink.

"Force, Master you can't wear those!!!" Anakin could be heard shouting from down the hall, and Ahsoka set another bet.

“And why not?” Obi-Wan smirked. “Someone - he had a few good ideas who - was kind enough to buy them for me. It would be rude not to put their present to good use.” 

Cody felt a shiver of apprehension despite being nowhere in the vicinity. His Jedi was about to do something ill-advised. 

Cody sighed. 

He’d been such an idealistic shiny under General Windu’s command. Sure, he’d heard rumours about Kenobi, but he’d chalked them up to idle gossip at the time. And then he’d gone back to Kamino for officer training under Alpha-17, Obi-Wan’s former Commander. He’d passed _those_ tales off as exaggeration. And then he’d been assigned the 212th, and Alpha had given him the pitying look of a man who had seen far too much. 

At first, Cody had thought his Jedi perfection. Then he actually went into battle with the man, and started researching leashes, bubble wrap, and cotton wool. It was a good thing Qui-Gon Jinn was dead, or Cody would have personally killed the man for failing to teach Obi-Wan anything like a sensible fear of death and dismemberment. 

It didn’t help when Skywalker - notoriously reckless Skywalker - had warned Cody about a laundry list of Obi-Wan’s bad habits. Cryptic remarks were expected with Jedi, by Cody’s reasoning. It was the flirting that caught Cody short. 

“My master flirts with, like, everything and everyone. If it has a pulse, he flirts with it. He flirts with his tea so that's not saying much,” Skywalker had warned, and Cody hadn’t taken him half seriously enough. Nor when Skywalker had gleefully explained, “also he has no idea how to keep himself alive,” and then fucked off to the other side of the galaxy while Cody stared after him in stunned horror. Every time the 212th and 501st met up, it was all innuendo and pitying glances. At least Cody got a good workout punching all their faces in. 

“Highest ranked vod in the GAR,” Rex would tease, and Cody would schedule in an asskicking, because he’d gained that rank - and the ridiculous competence it entailed - by simply trying to keep his Jedi alive and fully dressed. He prided himself in his accomplishments at the former, and had all but given up at the latter.

Cody had settled in to pine over his Jedi long term when, true to form, Obi-Wan changed the parameters. Personally, Cody blamed General Vos. He wasn’t that far off either. There had - of course - been more than a little alcohol involved as well. Somehow - reports varied - it involved Obi-Wan walking from the communal showers to the officers quarters in nothing but his skin. Vos wasn’t wearing much more. The end result was Obi-Wan propped in Cody’s doorway at ass o’clock in the morning, bare as if freshly decanted. Vos was long gone by then, although Obi-Wan was perfectly happy to blame the other Jedi. 

With a sigh, Cody wrestled his listing Jedi into the room and then into his bed. Obi-Wan did his best to make it difficult, the man tangled up around them like an over affectionate octopus. Cody managed, somehow, to get a pair of sleep pants on his Jedi, studiously ignoring the pleasure that seared through the possessive, protective part of his psyche at seeing Obi-Wan in his clothing. He did, however, note the tattoos on Obi-Wan’s ankles, and wondered who had that down in Ahsoka’s book of bets.

Come morning, Cody ensured he was up first, not too difficult a task given how late it had been when he’d tucked Obi-Wan into his bed. He did though, thoughtfully leave a glass of water and hypo of painkillers on the bedside table. Cody threw himself into working out after that, trying to forget the clean lines of Obi-Wan’s body, the pale scars littering his lean form (the trail of ginger hair over chest and belly, the soft pink - right. Not thinking about that).

It was futile of course. A wave of stunned silence punctuated by hissed cursing and the _thump_ of dropped weights followed Obi-Wan into the gym. Not even Cody was immune. He turned, and his jaw dropped. So did the bar of weights he was spotting, and Rex gasped on the bench and lifted hurriedly, racking the bar before he sat up and joined the staring.

Hot pants. Obi-Wan was wearing the smallest, shiniest hot pants Cody had ever seen. And nothing else. Cody tried to swallow to keep from visibly drooling and nearly choked on his tongue.

“Ah, Cody,” Obi-Wan greeted with a warm smile, and Cody audibly gulped. “Fancy some hand to hand?” For a long moment, Cody just stared. Rex punched him sharply in the ribs, and Cody made a sound rather like the air whistling out of a balloon. “Excellent!” Obi-Wan declared, taking that as agreement.

What followed was possibly the sloppiest bout of sparring Cody had performed since he was five. All his moves were instinct, and that was the only thing that kept his head attached. It didn’t take long for Obi-Wan to pin Cody to the mats, and if he wasn’t desperately trying to keep Obi-Wan from realizing he had an incredibly awkward boner, Cody would have been ashamed at the quickness with which he had been taken down.

“Thank you for looking after me last night,” Obi-Wan all but purred. Cody flushed and nodded. “Best two of three?” Obi-Wan offered as he rose, and Cody nodded again despite his visceral sense of impending doom. Obi-Wan smiled like a well fed tooka, and then nearly put Cody on the mats again with a hip throw that Cody only narrowly escaped.

Firming his resolve, Cody did his best not to think of pale satiny skin. Or where that enticing trail of wiry reddish hair led. Or firm muscles. Or anything at all. 

“Usually though, I sleep in the nude,” Obi-Wan purred against Cody’s ear as they grappled. Cody blinked and drew in a harsh breath, and then he unexpectedly had Obi-Wan flat on his back. The toothy smirk on Obi-Wan’s face said the Jedi had Cody just where he wanted him. Cody swallowed again. “It seems we both have a problem,” Obi-Wan murmured, rubbing up against Cody, grinding their clothed erections together. 

Smug bastard, Cody couldn’t help but think. He leaned in and kissed that stupid smirk right off Obi-Wan’s stupid face, pulling back with a triumphant grin when Obi-Wan mewled. The gym exploded into a cacophony of cheers as Cody dragged them to their feet, and as they stumbled out the door, he could hear Ahsoka calling new bets.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr and pillowfort as wrennette, feel free to come say hi!


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